


Pointy

by rathernotmyname



Series: Fictober! 2020 [1]
Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Family Fluff, Fictober! Day 1, Gen, Read: Weed, Recreational Drug Use, Star Trek References, also, nothing bad happens for a change, they deserve it!!!, this is just loving Rami's Ears: the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:54:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27992592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rathernotmyname/pseuds/rathernotmyname
Summary: Weed and Star Trek TOS make for the perfect evening entertainment.
Relationships: Darlene Alderson & Elliot Alderson
Series: Fictober! 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2050200
Kudos: 1





	Pointy

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note:  
> I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING HOSTED OR REPOSTED ON ANY UNOFFICIAL APPS OR WEBSITES OTHER THAN ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN WITHOUT MY APPROVAL, PARTICULARLY APPS WITH AD REVENUE AND SUBSCRIPTION SERVICES.

The glass was too close to the edge. Way too close, but Elliot was too stoned to do anything about it. 

Staring at it and waiting for the inevitable spilling and floor-wiping to happen proved to be too boring, so he directed his attention back at his laptop. 

Darlene had pirated a few episodes of Star Trek (the original series, because she argued everything coming after it was crap) and brought weed and grocery store-garlic bread for them to enjoy while laughing about the ridiculous special effects and costumes and sitting in thoughtful silence at some of the deeper scenes. Elliot could have sworn he saw Darlene crying at some point, but she denied it when he asked. 

He ripped of a piece of garlic bread and tuned back in just in time for Dr. McCoy to angrily call Mr. Spock a “pointy-eared bastard”, which Elliot thought was very rude of him. Darlene thought so too after a few deep drags of the joint they shared. 

“He’s always so bad-tempered,” she slurred and handed the joint back to Elliot, who put it aside on the rim of the ashtray for the time being. “Poor Spock. Look at him, his eyebrow is sad.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.” Darlene frowned, a big, dark frown that usually only appeared when Elliot forgot to wash the dishes the third time in a week. 

“Well, his ears are pointy,” Elliot pointed out intelligently. 

“You’re right,” Darlene answered, nodding in emphasis, her eyes glassy and red when she glanced up where Elliot had melted over the sofa. 

Elliot copied her nod, shoved the piece of bread into his mouth and stared at the glass at the edge of the table once more until it blurred into a vaguely grayish shape.

He let his head fall back onto the backrest, legs spread, arms sprawled, trying to listen because the screen made his eyes burn. When he almost choked on his piece of bread, he realized he had forgotten to chew. 

“Fascinating,” said Mr. Spock on-screen. 

“Amen,” Darlene answered, and giggled at herself.

“I like him. He’s so dry and unfeeling and in the next minute he’s just so sweet, like, what’s his deal – yo, dude!”

Elliot’s eyes snapped open. When did he close them?

“You missed the finale!” Darlene whined, nudging his left knee with her shoulder. 

“What? The episode just started.”

“You fell asleep, genius.”

Elliot lifted his head. It was heavy, and his neck hurt. “Oh. Didn’t notice.” He gave up and let his head fall down again.

“Stop manspreading and make room.” Darlene stood up from where she had cuddled with Flipper on the new carpet and plopped down next to him. She stared at his profile. 

“Elliot.”

“Mhm.”

“You’re a pointy-eared bastard.”

Elliot’s eyebrows beetled together. He tried to think of a clever comeback. 

“Mpfh… No, I’m not.”

Task failed.

“Well, maybe not a bastard, but you’re sure pointy-eared.”

“Am I?” Was he? Elliot lifted a hand and grabbed for his left ear. It didn’t feel very pointy.

Darlene snorted at his uncoordinated movements. She traced the shell of his ear with her index finger, tongue peeking out in concentration. 

Elliot shuddered. “Urgh, stop that.”

“Sorry, sorry. No need to jump out of your skin.” 

She took Elliot’s hand, separated his index finger from the rest and pressed it to the top of his ear. As she let go of his hand, Elliot traced it like she had done before. It felt less intrusive, but not more pointy than before. When he shot Darlene a confused glance, she huffed and stood up, moving towards her backpack.

As the voice-over proudly exclaimed that someone or another would boldly go where no man had gone before, Darlene produced a pocket mirror and an eyeshadow palette from the depths of her backpack and situated them in front of his face and at the side of his head, tilting until Elliot could see his ear, now a little red from him rubbing it to get the feeling of Darlene’s finger off.

It was a perfectly ordinary ear, Elliot thought, except for the tip, as his sister had so helpfully pointed out. There, in plain sight and unprotected by his shorn hair, was a tiny little point. 

“Told ya,” Darlene said, satisfied with Elliot’s obvious astonishment. 

Elliot tried to think of the reason why he had never really looked at his ears until now, but his drugged-out brain felt like it would drip out of his nose if he thought any harder, so he let it be – for now. 

Darlene had turned her back on him to put her equipment back. Elliot’s eyes caught the screen, where Mr. Spock nerve-pinched Bad Captain Kirk into unconsciousness. 

Elliot liked Spock. Spock was badass. Spock was cool. Normal people thought that too, right? Logically, if he may borrow the word, Elliot’s ears were cool, too.

Content with this revelation, Elliot let his head fall to the side, a smile overcoming his face like a warm breeze. He took a last drag of the joint and put it out in the ashtray. Then he dragged his eyes back to the laptop, too blazed to understand what was going on anymore, but comfortable with the noise and flickering lights.

Darlene turned back around, a chocolate bar in one hand that she had found in the pocket of her cloak. She grinned when she saw his face.

“Aw, look at you! Tell me, brother mine, what was this get-together?”

“A fucking good idea,” Elliot replied absentmindedly, because he knew the spiel from a lot of similar evenings.

“Fuck yeah.” Darlene sighed, stretched her arms and groaned at the audible pop her back gave. “You know, I never took you as a Trekkie. If I’d known how much you like this crap, I would’ve done this much sooner.”

“Don’t think I would’ve appreciated it as much as right now,” Elliot said. He reached up to scratch his nose, missed, and gave up.

“Probably,” Darlene murmured, shuffling back to the left side of the couch. “But at least you could’ve died happily knowing you have Spock-ears.” With that, she grinned, collapsed on the couch and bumped her knee against the coffee table.

The water glass wobbled, turned around its own axis and fell onto the carpet beneath.

**Author's Note:**

> Day one of my very own fictober series that doesn't follow any sort of theme, I just wrote whatever came to mind on each day. I already posted all of these on tumblr (@rathernotmyname) in October, if y'all want to check them out. :)  
> Tell me what you think! I'm Star Trek TOS trash, I admit it. But can you blame me? Look at Rami's little pointy ears. Just look at them and maybe then you'll find peace. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
